Photos
by Chelsee6
Summary: They say a picture says a thousand words. When you're looking to an explanation as to why your best friend is falling apart, photos can be a big help. Ansty/tragedy one shot. Catherine/Sara. Warning: Character death; please don't kill me.


A/N: Thanks to Sarah for kicking my ass and making me post this. Also, I'd like to reiterate the warning in the summary, this is an angst filled one shot with a character death. Blame a mild bout of depression and let's move on.

* * *

PHOTOS:

Warrick wasn't on the scene, he was working his own a ten minute drive away. But he heard the squawk of the radios, he saw the grave looks come over the officers faces. He turned to Brass, looking for an explanation.

At that moment another message came through the radio, he was closer this time, but he still couldn't make out what the officer had said. His voice had been drowned out by the most chilling sound Warrick had ever heard in his life.

A scream.

He had heard screams before, he could tell the difference between a heart broken scream and a scream of anger. He knew a scream of passion sounded nothing like either of them. A scream of rage and a scream of frustration might sound the same to some, but to Warrick Brown they were worlds apart.

But this scream beat them all, it chilled him to the bone. It was a scream of anguish. It made his blood curdle. It froze his heart. That scream would have done both of those regardless, but what was worse—he knew who that scream belonged to.

Catherine Willows

--

Without a second thought Warrick had left his scene in Grissom's capable hands, and he drove frantically towards where he knew Catherine was working that night.

By the time he got there things were chaos. There were police officers everywhere. It didn't take him long to find Catherine, she was kneeling in the middle of the front yard, hysterical.

Tears were streaming down her face and she was still screaming softly, as though she wanted to scream but it couldn't quite make it through her throat. Intermittently, in between the screams, she kept on repeating one word.

"No."

Sofia was beside her, her arms wrapped around Catherine's shoulders with the fingers linked together. Sofia looked up as he came over, and he could see tears trailing down her face as well, surprising him.

"What happened?' his asked her, squatting down to her level.

"Sara…he umm….he came out of nowhere, and he had a gun…and…and she stepped in front of him as he pulled the trigger. She's dead." Sofia whispered, still seemingly in shock.

It was then Warrick noticed the blood spatter across Catherine's face. Blowback. He had been aiming at her. He felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. His lungs weren't working properly, his mind was spinning. Sara was one of his best friends. Once brought in to investigate him they had soon put aside their differences and built a solid relationship.

Warrick bit his lip, _not now_ he thought. _Not now_. He could cry for Sara later. Right now he was needed. Focussing on someone else helped him push aside his grief, for the time being.

"Catherine" he tried to get his friend's attention but she was unresponsive. Her mantra had changed, he noticed. Instead of 'no' over and over again, it was now 'Sara'. "Catherine, look at me" he reached forwards, cupping her cheek with his hand and turning her head to face him.

Her eyes were overflowing with tears, even as they ran down her face new ones formed to replace those lost. Her stare was vacant, but he had a feeling, even if it wasn't, she wouldn't be able to see him. Not through her tears.

"When...after he…Catherine just lost it" Sofia murmured, starting her explanation again. "She was hysterical. I had to drag her out of there."

Warrick frowned, confusion etching his face. He had never seen Catherine like this before. Never. She had lost it after Eddie died, but she had held it together enough to criticise Sara's handling of the investigation. But here? Here she was a mess. As far as he was aware she and Sara had never even had a coffee together outside work, so then why one earth was she hysterical?

_She just saw someone shot in front of her_ he reminded himself. _Someone take a bullet that was meant for her._ _Of course she's going to be on edge. _"Sofia, Catherine's in no state to talk now. I'll take her home, ok?"

Sofia nodded. A minute later she realised she was actually going to have to let go of Catherine to make that possible. Her mind was in a daze, and Catherine's warmth had helped her stay anchored in the real world for the time being. But there was a job to be done. Her mother wouldn't just sit there; she would be doing all she could to make sure the man responsible was punished.

Sofia unlaced her fingers, slowly standing up on her shaking legs. She ordered them to hold her. It was then that the front door to the house opened. Warrick and Sofia stared blankly as the stretcher, sporting a navy blue body bag, was wheeled out.

It seemed that Catherine wasn't completely unaware of the situation as she stood up, her body shaking but somehow staying upright. She moved purposefully towards the gurney, "Move" she shouted, only stopping when strong arms physically pulled her back.

"Cath, what are you doing?" Warrick asked her softly, his voice low.

"I…I need to see her" Catherine whispered, tears welling up in her eyes once again.

"I don't think that's a good idea" Warrick shook his head, trying to lead her away—towards his car.

"No, no—I NEED TO SEE HER!" Catherine shouted, pulling away from him.

--

"No…oh god, please, no. Sara…" Catherine was sobbing again, bent over the gurney as she looked onto the brunette's pale face, completely devoid of colour.

"Cath, c'mon. I'm going to take you home" Warrick stated softly.

Eventually he managed to get her into the car, but she had now become unresponsive again. Her eyes were glazed, though that didn't stop the tears. Her hands were shaking, her face was pale and her body tense.

When Warrick cut the engine, after pulling up in Catherine's driveway, he found that the silence seemed to stretch around them, pervading everything. Looming like a dark shadow, echoing their grief. Sighing he got out of the car, moving around to the passenger side to get Catherine. He found her keys in her pocket and left to open the door first, before coming back for her.

Warrick helped Catherine walk to the door, as she was a little more lucid. As soon as they were inside she pushed him away, a sob shuddering through her body as she surveyed the room.

Concerned, Warrick watched as Catherine backed herself up against the wall and slowly slid down it, resuming her sobbing, her body shaking violently. He went over to her, kneeling down beside her, but she flinched away from him.

Stepping back as though he'd been burned Warrick hesitated before he moved to the kitchen to make tea. _How British_ he thought to himself as the kettle boiled. He had always thought, when reading an English book or watching some English cop show, that their habit of making tea every time something went wrong was odd. Now here he was doing the same thing. _Well, who knows, maybe it will help. _

While the tea was brewing he moved around the house, just trying to occupy his mind. It had been a while since he had been in Catherine's house. The photos on the fridge were the first thing that made him stop. The first thing he had noticed—the thing that had made him stop—was that there were more of them. He allowed his eyes to flick from one to another, on the third they paused.

The first two had been of Lindsey, the first she was grinning and holding up a medal that was handing round her neck. She had been in her bathers, her hair wet. Warrick had smiled at that, remembering Catherine mentioning something about her daughter being in a swim meet. The second had to have been Lindsey's first day at middle school, her grin lighting up the photograph as she was dressed in her new uniform. That had made him chuckle—he had recalled Catherine saying something about how hard it had been to get her to smile for that photo. But the third photograph—that one Catherine hadn't said anything about.

He could clearly see Sara, beaming at the camera, Lindsey's chin resting on her shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around Sara. When had that been taken? The next was of Sara and Lindsey also, both swinging along the monkey bars, a grin on both their faces. When had that been taken? The fifth photo seemed to have been taken the same day, Sara and Lindsey were sitting in two dodgem cars. Sara's mouth was a wide gap-tooth grin, and Lindsey was smirking. It looked like she had just rammed Sara's car.

Warrick was confused, did this mean that Sara and Catherine had been friends? If so then why hadn't their friendship been reflected at work? These photos obviously weren't that new as there were others pinned lower down.

Another one showed Sara and Catherine together, sitting on a picnic rug, Catherine's head resting on Sara's shoulder, a wide smile across her face. A gap-tooth grin on Sara's as she rested her cheek against the top of Catherine's head.

Warrick blinked, taking in another photo, the scene captured on a happier day. Catherine was beaming at the camera, her smile so radiant it almost took his breath away. In her arms Lindsey was grinning her head off, and Sara's head was resting on Catherine's shoulder, her smile wider than he had ever seen it.

The beeping of the timer shook Warrick out of his reverie. He returned to the two teas, puzzling over the photos.

--

When Warrick set the tea down on the coffee table he noticed more photos, on the mantle piece and on the walls. The one in the frame he knew Lindsey had made was what caught his eye. His eyes widened as he took in Catherine's blissful smile, Sara's lips pressed to her cheek.

He felt realisation dawn on him, and he almost kicked himself. He had known Catherine was bi, and he had noticed that Sara was no longer moping over Grissom. Hell, he had even suspected she was seeing someone—but never in his wildest dreams had he thought that that someone would be Catherine.

The next photo left absolutely no doubt. It had obviously been taken as a candid, Catherine's lips locked with Sara's—Catherine's hand cupping Sara's cheek.

"The happiest four months of my life" Catherine's voice caused him to turn around. "We were going to tell you guys…we just…we wanted to know if it would work first. I asked her to move in with me last night…" Warrick saw her lip wobble as new tears welled up. "She said yes" Catherine whispered before she broke down again into sobs.

Catherine's crying subsided some time later. Warrick had thought she was asleep until he heard her murmur, "I loved her Warrick. I really…really loved her"

--

That morning Warrick was woken when the doorbell rang. He had fallen asleep on the sofa. He answered the door to find Nick and Greg on the doorstep, armed with breakfast foods. Not long after Grissom, Brass and Sofia showed up bearing caffeinated beverages.

They gathered at the table in silence. Catherine came down not long after. Her face was bare of makeup, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her hair was lank, her skin sallow. The deep bags under her eyes showed she hadn't slept. The red rims clearly showed she had been crying.

"Cath?" Grissom whispered, scared to see his friend so torn apart.

A minute later Catherine looked at him, as though she'd just heard him.

"Are you ok?" Nick asked tentatively, worried about her as well.

"No" Catherine whispered, her voice hoarse and strained. She glanced down at the floor again. Silently she took a seat. "Did they get him?" she asked calmly. Her hands were trembling but there was nothing she could do to stop that. This was a nightmare she was going to have to live through, one she would never wake up from. Her Sara was gone, and she was alone. Alone in a crowded room. If she could have, she would have smiled at the expression.

"Yeah" Greg mumbled, taking a seat too. "A few streets away. He's dead. Suicide by cop. He was shot in the belly, but they couldn't save him"

"Good" Catherine hissed bitterly. "At least he suffered before he went"

Blinks circled the room, each occupant—bar Warrick—stunned at the venom in her voice.

"There's something you should all know" Warrick stated softly, his eyes locking with Catherine's, silently telling her she should explain.

"Yes" she conceded softly. "I…errm…Sara…" she choked on her name, not being able to bare the thought of life without her. Suddenly she found her throat was blocked, she couldn't say a word.

Silently she stood up, moving to the lounge room to retrieve her favourite photo. One Lindsey had taken, of her and Sara in the park. Sara's lips pressed to her cheek. On the outside—at least at work—Sara might appear cold, distant. But in reality she was so much more vibrant. And she had expressed her love each and every day, even in public, something which had continually surprised Catherine.

She decided to take the other one too, the photo in which she and Sara were sharing a kiss. That had been taken just moments after Sara had told her she loved her, and Catherine had repeated the sentiment back to Sara.

Swallowing, Catherine moved back to the dining room. All eyes were trained on her, waiting for an explanation. For her to tell them what they 'needed to know'.

Catherine, hugging the photo frames to her chest whispered three words. "I loved her" before the tears began to fall again. She had thought she was all out of tears, but apparently not.

The tears traced her cheeks, but she held off on sobbing for just long enough to extend a shaking hand towards Nick, who was closest. He took the first photo from her, his eyes widening as he took in the still of what had been the happiest day of her life in recent years.

A moment later her knees buckled as the sobs hit her, and she fell to the floor, her arms wrapped around the last photo. The next minute Greg was beside her, wanting to keep his friend from falling apart. Violently she pushed the photo towards him, again whispering those three words. "I loved her." And adding another four, "and she loved me."

A/N: I don't expect everyone to love me for killing Sara...but a review telling me whether or not you liked the writing style/characterisation/whatever of the story would be much appreciated. Who knows, if you do maybe I won't be so depressed and the next thing I write will be fluffy...maybe...


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